


bringing you a love that's true (get ready)

by Likerealpeopledo



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2020-10-06 14:28:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20508527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Likerealpeopledo/pseuds/Likerealpeopledo
Summary: David gets ready. Patrick waits.





	1. get ready

**Author's Note:**

  * For [olivebranchesandredwine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/olivebranchesandredwine/gifts), [didipickles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/didipickles/gifts).

> This ficlet is for olivebranchesandredwine and I hope it makes you smile.  
Thank you for creating such a safe and wonderful space in which to obsess.

“Do you think we’ll still be able to get to Elmdale by 4:30?” Patrick called out to David, who had been holed up in the _ door closed _ bathroom for over an hour. It was pretty clear from all the banging and clattering of jars and bottles against the countertop that he hadn’t inadvertently flushed himself out to sea or anything, but whatever he was doing, it wasn’t _ swift. _

“We can be fashionably late to a seminar on the health benefits of goat’s milk, Patrick!” David yelled back and from behind the door, another jar crashed against the tile. 

Patrick tucked his bookmark into his copy of _ The Road to Little Dribbling _and uncrossed his legs impatiently. Clearly, he wasn’t succeeding in his quest to passively prod David along. This was going to require employing something a little more active.

“Well, that’s where you’re wrong. I have it on good authority that the Canadian National Goat Federation waits for no man.” 

Truthfully, Patrick didn’t really want to drive forty-five minutes to bodily drag David through a room of up-past-their-bed-time goat farmers either, but these kinds of networking events meant community support and resources that were too valuable to deny if their business had any hope of staying viable through tough economies. And anyway, years of Catholic Mass had instilled in Patrick an uncanny ability to endure even the most brutally dull event with an unparalleled grace and optimism, although it might just have been the promise of wine. 

Plus, he’d heard there would also be cheese. And cheese plus David equalled Contented and Unable to Archly Comment on People’s Shoes Because His Mouth Was Too Full David; so it was a win-win.

Patrick arrived at the closed bathroom door and knocked lightly. “Can I come in?” 

“Won’t that ruin the illusion that I woke up like this?” David said, voice still muffled by the door. “Are we ready for that kind of full frontal honesty?”

He’d woken up drooling on Patrick’s chest with his hair standing straight on end in his best impression of the Statue of Liberty, and it hadn’t stopped Patrick from pressing the snooze button four times so that he could properly demonstrate how adorable he found David in that state, but who was counting. 

“It’s 3:45.” 

The door didn’t open, so Patrick sat back down on the arm of the sofa, lamenting the fact that he hadn’t lied to David about their proper departure time. He’d learned that fifteen minutes late was essentially a half an hour early for most of the Rose family, all of whom seemed to have a very European concept of time. 

He could hear as David’s cell phone vibrated against the porcelain counter, then David answering, and that may have been what sent him spiralling over the edge.

Patrick strode as forcefully as someone crossing a tenth of a metre could stride, fist raised to give the bathroom door the piece of his mind that he wasn’t ready to give David, when the door suddenly swung open and David emerged, looking exactly the same way he had when he’d gone in. Beautiful. “Hi.” Patrick said, embarrassed. 

“Hi.” David smiled down at him beatifically, eyes scanning Patrick from head to toe.

“What?”

The microwave clock read 3:50 and they were going to be late. All the good cheese would be gone and David was going to opine very loudly about other people’s footwear and Patrick was going to have to grin and bear it while also finding ways to keep the owners of said footwear from hearing any of it. Last month, they’d attended a rather ludicrous seminar entitled _ When the Great Alpaca Bubble Bursts _ and Patrick had been required to pretend that he and David were rehearsing a play to avoid having to square off with the owner of a very incorrect pair of Crocs in the parking lot afterward. 

All that aside, Patrick also wanted very much to kiss David, to see if his lips were as soft and as well-conditioned as they looked, even as they were currently pursed in what appeared to be judgement.

“We need to go,” he said, sighing as David encroached upon his space, arms wrapping around his shoulders. “We’re already missing,” and yes, David’s lips were actually very soft, tasting like fresh mint and a hint of sugar, “the cheese course,” and then David’s hand slid down to the front of Patrick’s pants. The amount of strength required to pull away from David’s touch in that moment was equivalent to a man pulling a semi-truck with his teeth, but they were going to miss the cheese and possibly the wine and they just really needed to go. 

David obliged the mini-panic by taking a full step backward, allowing Patrick to start collecting his phone and keys and portfolio where he kept vendor information and business cards. As Patrick was stuffing his wallet into his back pocket, David grabbed a hold of his sweatered elbow. “Hey. Weren’t you going to change into something else?”

Patrick blinked at David steadily. _ 3:55. _“You mean, like a butterfly?”

His boyfriend’s mouth opened and closed and then opened again, and yes, Patrick may have felt just the slightest twinge of vindication as he herded David out the door and into the waiting car.

  



	2. cause here we come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick and David get back from dinner and engage in bantery foreplay, mostly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was meant to be a birthday present for Didipickles back in September but I got sick and honestly forgot it existed.  
It's not super polished and it's unbeta'ed, but I found it today and I liked it enough that I thought I should just post it.
> 
> Also, let's assume there are lube and condoms. And ignore time and space bc Patrick has an apartment but he and David aren’t to I love you yet. 
> 
> It’s a mess.

Patrick and David escaped the treacherous and lactose-laden waters of the federated goat farmers networking event relatively unscathed, even after David had, true to form, loudly derided one woman’s choice of knee-high rubber boots. 

“But it looked like she’d just come from the mucking the stalls!” David argued, gesticulating wildly as Patrick wiggled his key into the lock and listened for the catch of the tumblers.

“She probably had, David.” Patrick wanted to be exasperated but really, he was mostly curious. “Anyway, I’d love to hear your interpretation of what mucking the stalls entails, exactly. Word for word. Really paint me a picture.”

“I will, but only if you stop looking at me like that.” As far as Patrick knew, he wasn’t looking at David like anything, but then again, he probably was. He really loved when David worked himself into conversational corners, and now was no exception. His eyes were probably lighting up as if David had just handed him an ornately wrapped gift. He wanted to unwrap it.

“I mean, if you don’t know--” Patrick goaded.

David stomped his foot, like a horse, although he probably didn’t realize that was how horses behaved, and it was just a David stomp. “I know what it entails! I’ve lived on a farm!” 

Patrick pressed his lips together in an attempt to stave off a smile. David caught him and glared. “You’ve already told me that story and I know you were there for a few days and it did not go well.” 

“But it was a lifetime worth of important lessons!” David and Patrick said in unison, one with more conviction than the other. Patrick laughed and David didn’t, though that doesn’t stop David from pinning Patrick to the sofa.

They’d actually escaped so unscathed (again, like the alpaca ranchers, the goat farmers were definitely not to be trifled with and Patrick was relieved that he hadn’t needed to duck, run, or block a punch) that they’d been able to go for a late dinner, luxuriating over three courses, including dessert.

“I’m going to be dreaming about that goat’s milk ricotta mousse tonight. I never would have thought to pair it with balsamic-peppered cherries. It was an absolute revelation,” David said to the skin of Patrick’s throat. 

Patrick was still tipsy from the wine they’d drunk, his veins buzzing with both alcohol and electricity from time spent in close proximity to David. He didn’t understand why he was talking about food when he should have been kissing David, who was beautiful. And right there. But he was still talking anyway. “It was delicious. We should ask Heather about maybe looking into branching out into--” David’s tart lips met his own with a searing kiss, thank God, and Patrick could not recall a single thing that he’d ever wanted to ask Heather to do. He was also having difficulty remembering what he might have asked David to do, until David’s tongue, spicy from the peppercorns, greedily explored his mouth. Then he suddenly had many precise, well-ordered and highly-detailed ideas for things he could ask of David, almost none of them requiring clothing. 

“I don’t think we need to include Heather in this next bit, do you?” David said, voice low, as he pulled roughly on the hem of Patrick’s sweater. “Although we could talk a little more about dessert, if you don’t mind.”

Come to think of it, Patrick really had no plans to talk at all, in fact, as he began feverishly stripping off his pants and socks, cock already throbbing in his boxer briefs. And he looked up to find David, nude, casually lounging across the bottom of his bed. For as much care and concern as David spent dressing himself on a daily basis, he was an absolute wizard when it came to disrobing.  _ Poof, nudity.  _ It was absolutely Patrick’s favorite party trick. Tonight was no exception, Patrick thought, as he took in the long lines of David’s body, from the immaculate column of David’s throat to his artful, elegant fingers; his long legs and the high, delicate arches of his feet. 

_ He’s mine _ flashed through Patrick’s mind then, and within seconds, he was on top of David, guiding his chin with his thumb and finally kissing him the way he’d been wanting to since this afternoon, or since the first time his lips had ever met David’s. Even though he’d just savored some of the most decadent food of his life, there was nothing more rich than the bruising press of David’s lips and tongue against his, full-bodied and abundant. David’s hands slid down Patrick’s chest, over his sides, still licking straight into his mouth like he’d never eaten a meal in his life. 

David pulled away slowly, eyes wild with need, his lips curved into the kind of smile that withheld a secret, stroking down Patrick’s chest with nimble fingers and following them with his kiss-swollen lips. David’s stubble dragged against Patrick’s collarbone as David worked the same spot with his tongue, over and over, until it felt like Patrick might pass out from the juxtaposition of soft and hard, light and rough. 

Using deliberate strokes, David worked him open slowly, with the same precision that he did literally everything else, and when he finally entered Patrick, he found himself making an undignified keening sound into David's mouth. Patrick's body walked the narrow line between needing David to give him more, harder, faster, less, and he found himself floating off, lavishing in the space where he was getting what he needed and what he wanted, and it was all the same thing: David.

After they’d finished, Patrick curled languidly on David’s bare leg, as David smoothed tenderly at the marks he’d left on Patrick's neck, using an aloe balm from the store. Patrick absently hummed a tune from the _The_ _Sound of Music_, drumming the beat lightly on David’s exposed hipbone with his fingertips.

Breaking into his post coital daze, Davids voice was soft, and sounded like a smile, open and sweet. “You really want to yodel right now, don’t you?”

“A little?” Patrick admitted. He wanted to stand on a mountaintop and shout into the void and tell everyone how he felt about David Rose, about how David Rose made him feel. But it was too early for that, and David was skittish, and Patrick couldn’t take the risk. This was perfect, just like it was, because he was in his bed, in David’s arms, and unlike Maria’s goat herder, he definitely wasn’t lonely.

  
  



End file.
